Chronicles of the Wutain War
by Frankto
Summary: A war with Wutai catches up with a bored and frustrated Sephiroth. Still young and recently promoted General, he secretly hopes to find an unexpected challenge in that war he despises. Rated M for violence and occasional gore.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Sephiroth, I just mop the floor with him when we play strategy games. Final Fantasy VII owns me, though, so I suppose it evens itself out.

**Chapter I: The General**

Two men stood, facing each other. Oblivious to the battle raging around them, they were having their own private duel. A cloud was currently obscuring the sky, casting dangerous shadows over the two men. The sound of steel clashing against steel announced the start of their battle.

With the grace of a cat, one charged with his blade held high- a curved broad blade akin to the katana -as the other remained motionless. At the last possible minute, steel met steel when the defender blocked the two-handed slash with a weapon of his own, an impossibly long, thin-bladed curved sword.

He held the blade with one hand, a feat in itself, as his glowing green gaze pierced the shadows covering them set themselves in the other man's eyes. With the flick of a wrist, the broadsword went flying, completely dwarfed by the colossal sword. It was then, with a simple thrust of his sword, that he pierced the man's heart and claimed his life.

As if on cue, a cloud made way for the sun to shed his light once again upon the battlefield, as a disturbingly calm man stood facing his felled opponent. Another soldier had fallen to the hands of the General.

With a flick of his sword- the Masamune- the General got rid of the excess blood on his blade and returned to the military vehicle for his sheath, even as the battle raged on around him. None dared to disturb his advance, for they all feared him. He was a youthful-looking man, presumably in his early twenties. Clothed in a black all-leather outfit, his overcoat trailing in the wind behind him, the man undid a ponytail that held long bangs of silver hair upward as to not disturb him in battle.

His name was Sephiroth, genetically engeneered first-class SOLDIER, recently promoted to the rank of "general" for the incoming war against Wutai. Despite the fact that his promotion was announced a few days ago, the word had spread so quickly that he was already feared and respected, even more so than he previously was. For he was no mere general. He was "the" General.

Talented in the art of fighting like no other, Sephiroth was a prime candidate for that role as he inspired fear in his enemies, respect in his troops and despite his lack of social skill, was a natural born leader. Even outnumbered fifty to seven, once Sephiroth showed up on a battlefield, victory is assured- a theory that was proven correct 53 hours prior during an ambush from the Wutain.

His men were currently fighting the mercenaries, led and hired by Wutain soldiers, and overpowering them both by sheer number and skills. He had taken a platoon of SOLDIER, second and third class, to stop the raids of Wutai on numerous Materia facilities and power plants. They had not yet made an official declaration of war, but he knew it would come. It was only days before all hell broke loose and the forces of both Shin-Ra and Wutai engaged in an all-out war, possibly dragging along other nations in their conflict. He could see them fighting over Nibelheim and Rocket Town, both directly in the middle of the two nations.

The General stood thoughtful besides one of the vehicle that carried part of his platoon. While he did enjoy greatly battling and challenging himself, he did not like war. He did not like the responsabilities that obviously accompanied the title of General, and only had weaklings- in his eyes- to battle against. Suffice to say, Sephiroth was not pleased, which sent both his soldiers and the enemy cowering and getting out of his path as soon as possible, even forgetting about their current conflict.

Glancing at the Materia refinery in the distance, the General turned to his lieutenant who stood at attention nearby. "Everything is proceeding according to plan," he said. "They should order a retreat soon as to limit their loss and regroup. We won't pursue them, there's no need for that. Arrange for Slavoski, Denzer and Stevens' funerals and send flower to their families. That will be all."

"Yes, sir." The soldier nodded, knowing better than to question the General. As if on cue, the Wutai troops announced their retreat a little over 4 minutes later. The lieutenant just had to wonder, once again, how the General predicted the fall of Carl Stevens, a third-class SOLDIER that was perfectly healthy and fighting as of two and a half minute ago, and why hadn't he done anything to stop it? He dismissed that thought immediately, knowing he could do nothing about it now as he himself was not particularly close to Stevens, and hadn't done anything to stop it himself.

Taking one last glance at the thirty-eight remaining SOLDIERs on the battlefield, he hopped in the truck to start the engine, having the utmost privilege to drive the General back to the base. Glancing at his superior from the car window, he saw the man giving orders to his troops to collect the bodies of the fallen, before returning and taking his place in the passenger's seat, resting a sheathed Masamune between them.

"We overpowered them," said the quiet man. "Three casualties on our side, versus twenty-one on theirs. This was the last of the raiders, I believe the war is about to begin."

The tone which he had taken sent shivers down the lieutenant's spine. It was clear that the silver-haired commander was not happy about the situation, despite his clear appreciation of combat. He had to agree; even in spite of being one of the prestigious SOLDIERs, war scared him. Regardless, he had to admire the calm this man could demonstrate even during battle. He hadn't even blinked today when he killed that man, who led the Wutain raiding squadron.

Nevertheless, even if he did not like it, the General always accomplished his duties without fail. They had quickly dispached the seven raiding team with minimal casualties and none of the targeted facility had been even so much as scratched. They were about to return to their temporary base a ways northwest of Mt. Nibel after a 6 days venture into various mountain trails and plateaus. Even with minimal sleep and a large dose of combat, Sephiroth didn't show any sign of weariness. It was amazing, because being a general meant that he was one of those who had to work the hardest.

Glancing at his surbordinates, Sephiroth had to supress a smirk when he noted how tired they were. They had worked hard, with the few period rests he allowed them far in-between. The higher ops would be pleased to hear that. They might even get an additional day or two off before they were sent on a similar mission again. While the wutain were skilled and proud warriors, they were monstrously outnumbered. Their main army, possibly five or six-thousand men strong, was completely outnumbered by Shin-Ra's fifty-thousand troopers. And Shin-Ra has The General on their side. That fact alone could overthrow the scale of power, and forced Wutai to hire mercenaries of lesser caliber to form their ranks, which led to greater expenses and lesser efficiency. This resulted in squadrons composed of about two dozen mercenaries, two to four Wutain warriors and a single commander. "The end justifies the means," he mused, speaking only in his thoughts. "When put against fifty of our well trained Mako-enhanced SOLDIERs, they stood no chance at all."

------

He was deep in thought when it had happenned. He couldn't react in time, nor had he thought about doing anything as such when he spotted two dragons in the distance before a distant mountain peak hid them once again. Thus, it came as a surprise to him when a pair of massive talons took hold of the truck in front of them and swung it off the ravine to their left.

With all those years of training, it took only a second before the gears in his head started turning and he kicked the door open in one swift motion, as though he had done that his whole life, before jumping out of the truck with his Masamune in hand. It was a tricky maneuver because of the lack of space on his side of the truck before he hit the stone wall. He used his momentum and natural agility to jump against it and on the roof of the truck to quickly survey the battlefield. There were two dragons, green in color, batting their large leathery wings and preparing for an assault.

The convoy screeched to a halt as his troops left the safety of the sturdy trucks. They were powerless against the torrent of flame that engulfed them a moment later when a third drangon leapt out of hiding. Out of the 12 soldiers in the truck, only three survived the initial blast. None could escape the explosion that followed the destruction of the military vessel.

Gritting his teeth, the General jumped towards the nearest dragon, a good 20 feet away from him. Not having expected such prowess from a mere human, the beast was defenseless when Sephiroth put a deep gash in the back of its neck, which also unintentionally damaged the dragon's right wing, before using its shoulder as leverage to jump back to safety.

He was surprised, to say the least, to see the creature recover so quickly. He was therefore unprepared when it let loose a torrent of flame aimed at him before setting foot where a truck had previously been. The surprise only lasted a moment, before he brought forth his sword and proclaimed "Ice 3!". He couldn't supress a smile at the bewildered expression showing in the dragon's eyes as the ice created created by the materia served as a barrage for the flame and leftover shards pierced its hide. He made one last swiping motion at the beast and watched it spill its innards before falling off the ravine to hit the ground a few hundred feet below.

"Two left," he mused. He decided to use the arrogant approach and taunt them into facing him rather than his weaker underlings. "Come!" he shouted "Have a taste of what it's like to be strong!" While he knew they couldn't possibly understand him, he hoped they would pick up the arrogant tone of his voice with their enhanced hearing. Luckily for him, they did.

Feeling a powerful draft of air coming from upward, he quickly thought of ducking under the swipe he knew would come, but thought against it. He brought up his sword to meet the claw coming from above as to block, and smirked as his sword easily cut through it and sliced off what he guessed was a finger. He turned towards the angered dragon and, with a cry of "Bolt 3!", fried the critter's head. To ascertain that the beast was dead, he sidestepped and lopped its head off as it fell.

Smiling at the ease at which he dispatched the colossal lizards, he watched as the third quickly fled the scene of massacre when it finally processed the level of strength they were facing. One more victory for the General. Getting rid of the excess blood with a swipe of his giant blade, he finally sheathed it and turned to his baffled men. He knew that, after this day, word would have spread and everyone would know of today's battle, of the way he had gotten rid of two gigantic dragons in mere second, alone, and thus saving his whole platoon from a certain death. And what do you know, it did. He would learn, much later, that even after nearly a decade had passed, the story of Sephiroth and the Green Dragons was still a popular and vastly recounted tale. He secretly enjoyed the fact that he had become a hero who had battled the Evil Dragon King to save his beloved princess from the clutches of the evil knights and witches.

It was then that reality set in. Gritting his teeth at the lost of over 15 of his soldiers- more than what the raiders had managed in 6 days- he quickly ordered them to push the dragon cadaver off the ravine, collect the remains of their fallen comrades and possibly even survivors. As luck would have it, none of them survived.

The trip back to the base was uneventful.

------

Sephiroth was a man of steel, the perfect warrior. With his body and reflexes, he could either deflect or take a bullet in the chest and go on and about killing those standing in his way. His look was one of composed determination, with a passionate fire burning beneath this facade. He could keep his calm in most situation and formulate a plan to adapt to the unexpected. It would come as a surprise to see the man, whom his subordinate respectfully call The General, barely able to control his anger and refrain from cutting the man in front of him in half.

The target of his anger was a short, stout dark-haired man named Heidegger. He was currently chief of the Midgar Peace Preservation branch of the Shin-Ra Company, and the only man in this base to outrank him. He couldn't help but cringe as the man laughed his terrible laugh and dismissed the loss of the 19 soldiers that were killed in the Dragons' attack as though it were nothing. But those in the SOLDIER ranks were not expendable and came in short supply. He knew better than to voice his thoughts, but swore that he would someday have the man know true fear born from being powerless in the enemy's ranks.

Dismissing these thoughts, Sephiroth finished his report and quickly excused himself from the man's presence. With no attack planned in the near future, he had no official duty to perform. The camp was one-hundred men strong, which greatly reduced the possibility of an attack. With nothing to worry about, he set off wandering about the camp, passive under the curious stare and quiet whispers he could hear in his wake.

He was a little ways out of camp when he saw a pack of dark-furred wolves and a pair of purple winged humanoids charging his way. Not in the least worried at being caught weaponless, he glanced at his armlet to see an Ice materia, coupled with an All, and a similar setup for its Lightning counterpart. Allowing a small smile to paint his lips, he let loose a small storm upon the group that fell 4 of the wolves.

Leaping above their unfortunate companions, the remaining three wolves made it to Sephiroth first, only to be batted aside all at once, hitting the ground with a meaty thud and whimper. While the silver haired man hadn't moved from his position, his leg was returning to the ground as he flexed it after a devastating roundhouse kick. Still smiling, Sephiroth turned around and made to make quick work of the flying humanoids, when all hell broke lose.

------

The General was not happy. The day had started normally, as it would during the hunt. They had caught up to the last of the Wutain and their mercenaries and had properly slaughtered over half their remaining troops before they scattered and fled. It had gone downhill from there.

First, there was the attack on their convoy by 3 dragons. They had managed to wreck two truck, effectively killing 19 soldiers in the process before he could move a finger to help them. He felt powerless, and he hated it.

To make things worse, he had to report to the man who succeeded in annoying him the most, Heidegger. Oh, what wouldn't he give to wrap his hands on his chubby neck and squeeze the life out of him... But back to the matter at hand.

Just as he found a group of monster on which he could vent his frustration, _it_ happened. Walking back to camp, the stench was a powerful reminder of what had happened, just as was the unconscious figure he was dragging along by the collar. Yes, he could remember...

_...All hell broke loose. It was wide-eyed, in utmost surprise, that Sephiroth was caught off-guard. While he did see what he had expected, a pair of flying humanoids he identified as Volron, what he did not expect was what happened next. A dark blur came flying from behind the pair as they were torn in half gruesomely in a fashion only a giant slab of iron could create. What surprised and angered him the most wasn't the demise of the two Volrons, no. It was the gore shower that ensued._

_A second following the death of the Volrons, Sephiroth was completely drenched in what he imagined was gallons of blood and internal organs. A man stood before him, wielding a bloody greatsword and just as wide-eyed and shocked as he was. The youth recovered quickly, before laughing nervously. "A, ah, G-general, sir...!" he said, apologetically. But Sephiroth would not, and could not, forgive! It had been done in such a way... he had to have his revenge. The fact that the man was bearing a SOLDIER insignia did little to diminish his anger._

_Opening his mouth to speak, the General thought better and promptly sent his right fist to connect with the man's jaw. Caught totally unprepared, the youthful soldier's consciousness wavered under the force of the blow, and what little strength he had wavered when Sephiroth shoved what he thought was a liver in his face. He slumped into blissful unconsciousness..._

It was drenched in blood that the man made his way back to camp, dragging the soldier and his weapon along roughly. His "victim," he had thought, was in its mid-teen and was probably a new recruit judging from his height. He wore a deep purple outfit and had black spiky hair, which he supposed was considered fashionable at this time. He wielded a gigantic greatsword which was nearly as long as his very own Masamune. His dog tag had said "Zack" and as he had presumed, he was a SOLDIER, first-class, like he was. In normal time, he would have wondered about the lack of last name, but was still too angry at the youth to care.

When he felt him stir, he promptly dropped him and his sword on the ground. He was secretly impressed short at the time he took to recover, but that thought was dwarfed in comparison to the satisfaction of hearing him groan in pain. "You're awake," he stated simply. "That means you can walk on your own." He had regained his calm outwardly, but was still considering making this Zack second on his hit list. Was he developing a prankster nature? He had to wonder...

"Yes, General, sir!" said Zack with an overly formal salute. Sephiroth did not miss the playful twinkle in his eyes, and promptly got rid of it with a punch in the gut. He couldn't suppress a small smile as he walked away and heard Zack try to mutter something along the line of "Good to make your acquaintance" and trying not to spill the content of his gut at the same time.

It was a minute later, when he was nearing camp, when Zack finally caught up to him. He spoke in a calm, yet playful voice "I just wanted to tell you, General, sir, that I was transfered to your unit as of an hour ago. Good evening!" before taking off in a jog, leaving a speechless, dirty and wide-eyed Sephiroth to his musing.

This was, by far, one of the worse day in his career. Indeed, the General was not happy. Not happy at all...

------

To be continued...

This surpringly short chapter gives me a newfound respect for all those fanfiction writer out there who give their all in the huge chapters that I enjoy reading so much.

The story as of now has no plot and it might take a while before a new chapter comes out. When I'm inspired, I suppose.

I hope you enjoyed reading. This was my first work of fiction ever. It took me about 3 hours to write, spellcheck and edit.

Frankto


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